


Iré Joven Pa' La Sepultura

by chachkisalpaca



Series: Catholic School AU: Con Altura [1]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: AQ Rare Pair Fic Challenge, And very oblivious, Catholic school AU, Everyone's gay, F/F, Internalized Homophobia, Mild Slut-Shaming, Underage Drinking, brooke is very dramatic, con altura verse, its a nice fic i swear, tw: child abuse descriptions (nothing too heavy), vanessa issa gem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 09:08:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19206265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chachkisalpaca/pseuds/chachkisalpaca
Summary: Vanessa’s friend was too pretty to be problematic; she had the uniform of Our Ladies of God, short, curly hair, skinny frame, full, plumpy lips and cheekbones so sharp she could cut anything with them. She was beautiful.“So, this is the prude you were telling me about?”Brooke’s attraction went down rapidly.In which Brooke is a devoted catholic, and falls for Yvie, a hell of a troublemaker.





	Iré Joven Pa' La Sepultura

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here it is! I been teasing this fic for the past few days on my tumblr, and it's finally done! It's for AQ's rare pairs challenge, and the tropes I used were: Enemies to lovers, High School AU (with the turn of being catholic) and Lesbian AU.  
> I hope y'all like this fic, I poured my heart and soul into it, despite not being scyvie/pearlet. My eternal love is for Frey (Thorpe around here) for Michelle Visage-ing me and beta-ing this — also, shout out to ella (dawningofdrag) for letting me rant about this. I love you both. ❤  
> Please let me know what you thought in the comments, and be sure to have read the trigger warnings listen on the tags. :)

Vanessa Mateo was a born troublemaker.

Brooke couldn’t wrap her head around how did she end up in Our Holy Mother Mary. Vanessa had nothing to do there — always skipping classes, sneaking cigarettes and smoking in the bathrooms, and ultimately eloping from school to meet with her problematic friends. One would think she’d get caught and expelled, but that never happened - Vanessa always got away with it.

And Brooke Lynn  _ hated _ it. 

She had spent most of her life trying to be the perfect daughter, bringing home nothing but straight As, competing in all the pageants her mom wanted to do when she was her age without a single objection, president of the student council and prima ballerina in every show — you’d think her parents had every reason to be proud of her, but after all the things she’d done to please them, she had yet to hear her father say: “We are proud of you.”

In Brooke’s mind, the memory of entering class and overhearing Vanessa say how proud her mama was, because she got a B- on geography, was engraved with fire. Vanessa didn’t deserve praise. Brooke did - Brooke  _ craved _  it. 

“Just let it go, Brooke,” had advised one of her friends, Kameron, when Brooke finished her rant. “You know girls like her don’t stick around here, the nuns sooner or later will realise what kinda girl she is.” Kameron was right, Vanessa would leave one day, either when the nuns discovered she was the reason the bathrooms smelled like nicotine and teenage rebellion, or when her parents finally lost hope on straightening up their daughter.

But until that day, Brooke would despise Vanessa with all she had. Even if she didn’t have a real reason. Even if the only one she could find, after having scratched to the back of he brain, was based solely on the fact Vanessa was  _ free  _ and Brooke wasn’t.

One day, Brooke’s period came earlier than expected, and she had to run out of the class with her thighs clenched and a pad hidden in her fist. When she arrived to the bathroom, the smell of cigarettes hit her. She groaned.  _ Vanessa _ . Brooke grunted and locked herself in a cubicle. 

“Kiki? Is that you?” Vanessa’s voice spoke, breaking the silence.

Brooke sighed, pulling up her underwear and straightening her skirt. She came out of the stall, completely ignoring a curly head peeking from the other end of the bathroom. She could feel Vanessa’s eyes glued to her back.

“Oh, it’s just you, miss  _ puritana. _ ” There was a nervous tick in Brooke’s left eye.

Reluctantly, she looked at the petite Latina with a deadpan expression.

“Don’t  _ ever _ call me like that,” she snarled. 

Vanessa threw her cigarette to the ground and crashed it with her right feet.

“And what are you gonna do about it, miss  _ puritana _ ?” she questioned with a daring tone.

It was safe to say Brooke was seeing red. She already hated the other girl with a burning passion, the minimum provocation coming from her would made her lose it. And so she was about to. 

Brooke inhaled sharply, clenching her fists.

“I could tell the nuns you’re the smoker rat without any proof and they’d believe me,” she threatened. But Vanessa didn’t even flinch, just scoffed.

“Of course you would. But you see, Brooke Lynn, I’m tryna get the fuck outta here, so, by all means, go ahead,” Vanessa replied, coming over to the sinks and jumping to get on top of them.

Brooke cocked a brow when she saw the short girl standing over the sinks and reaching for the window.

“What in hell are you doing?” 

“The fuck you think I’m doing? I ran out of cigarettes, I’m going to get more,” she answered as if it was obvious. Vanessa looked back at her puzzled companion over her shoulder. 

“Well, I’m not going to let you!” Brooke declared and Vanessa laughed loudly. 

“Yeah, good luck trying.” And just like that, she crawled out of the window, disappearing from the taller girl's sight.

_ ‘This is stupid, I’m stupid, why am I being stupid?’  _ Brooke thought while she mirrored what Vanessa had done just moments earlier. 

Before she could properly process what she was doing, the adrenaline began running through her veins as she began scanning her surrounding for the brown  curls. She realized she had never been to that part of the school before; the dark alley in between Our Holy Mother Mary and the Boarding School Our Ladies Of God. It was dirty, cold, and she could see many things spread on the floor that’d result in an apoplexy for the nuns. 

She tried to cool down and looked around again. At the end of the empty alley, where there was barely any light, she could distinguish Vanessa’s silhouette, and that she was accompanied by someone. 

“Vanessa!” Brooke exclaimed, coming closer with hurried steps. 

The girl in question and her friend turned to face Brooke. While Vanessa was clearly annoyed, she couldn’t quite decipher the expression of the mysterious girl. 

Only when she came close enough to get a good glance at both of them, Brooke’s breath got caught in her throat.

Vanessa’s friend was too pretty to be problematic; she had the uniform of Our Ladies of God, short, curly hair, skinny frame, full, plumpy lips and cheekbones so sharp she could cut anything with them. She was  _ beautiful _ . But, apparently, a clear headache, just like Vanessa. ‘ _ Compose yourself, Brooke. _ ’

“Bitch, get a grip and leave me alone,” Vanessa snarled, taking a drag from her cigarette.

The mysterious girl eyed Brooke from head to toe, and a shiver went down her spine, although she attributed it to her period cramps.

“So, this is the prude you were telling me about?” the stranger questioned, without taking her eyes off Brooke. 

Brooke’s attraction went down rapidly. Yes, she was definitely Vanessa’s kind. She had nothing to do with her. Putting on her armour of coldness, she gave her an ironic smile.

“I’m friends with the president of your school’s council. Just a PSA, if you’re thinking of calling me that again.” She tried to scare her, but only caused the pair to laugh.   
“See, Yvie? I told you, she is hilarious!” So her name was Yvie. Brooke totally didn’t think it was a pretty one and it suited her well.

Yvie came a step closer, locking eyes with Brooke. She took a long drag and blew the smoke right in the blonde’s face. The nervous tick was there again, and it was increased by Yvie’s smug smile.

“Shouldn’t you be in class, blondie?” Yvie inquired, taking another drag. Brooke stepped back, convinced she’d explode if she dared to blow smoke on her again. She raised her head to the sky and a cloud of smoke came off her mouth. “Good girls like you usually don’t hang out with girls like us.” Yvie pointed at Vanessa with her head.

“Who said I'm a good girl?” Brooke bit back. Yvie chuckled.

“It's written all over your face, blondie.”

Vanessa was quietly smoking while watching the exchange. She let some ashes fall from the cigarette before she spoke.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Yves. She is a ballerina, y’know what they say about 'em.”

A wide, wicked smile appeared on Yvie’s face. She held the cigarette close to Brooke’s face, who wrinkled her nose at the smell.

“Why don’t you try it, blondie?” Yvie offered, “I bet you already have black lungs anyway. No chance your little ballerina friends don't smoke.” Brooke slapped her hand away from her face, the cigarette consequently falling to the ground. 

“My name’s not "blondie",” Brooke muttered with disgust, turning on her heels. 

She heard a loud, dorky laugh, and since she was well acquainted with Vanessa’s foghorn of a laughter, she figured out it had to be Yvie’s. For some reason, her heart skipped several beats, but she attributed it to the panic of coming back smelling like cigarettes and sin.

It totally didn’t have to do with the pretty girl that continued to smoke along Vanessa in a dark corner. 

 

\---

 

Explaining Sister Bianca what took her so long was a living hell.

She had to run to her gym locker for new clothes — ones that didn’t smell like a dirty alley. In the end, she whispered to Sister Bianca that she’d caught one of her fellow classmates sinning, and that she’d explain with detail later. Sister Bianca had given her a serious look before ushering her to her seat.

Brooke didn’t see Vanessa for the rest of the day and she preferred it that way. Only The Lord knew what would have happened if she did. 

By the end of the day, Sister Bianca and Sister Raja pulled Brooke aside so she’d explain herself. With a satisfied smile, she told them what had happened.

“... And then I went out of the window and found her with someone else smoking in the alley that connects our school with Our Ladies Of God.” Sister Bianca and Sister Raja gasped in surprise and looked at each other in horror.

“Sacrilege! How could she? Coming from such a good family!” Sister Raja dramatized. 

“And who was the other one smoking with her?” Sister Bianca inquired with a thoughtful voice.

Brooke froze. She knew Vanessa deserved it, no doubt about that. But calling Yvie out in front of the nuns that weren’t even from her own school didn’t sit well with her for some reason.

So Brooke shrugged and put on her best innocent face. “I don’t know, Sisters.”

 

\---

 

The next day Vanessa was taken from her maths class and her parents appeared in the halls in no time. The rumor quickly spread around the school and soon all students were wondering what had Vanessa done. 

Brooke knew it well, but she still acted as if she had no clue.

“I think they caught her smoking,” Blair ventured to say with her gaze fixed on her literature book.

“You think so? She’s done worse,” Kameron questioned, braiding Blair’s hair.

“Well, it’s the only thing I know for sure she’s done. So my bets are on that.”

Just as if she had summoned her, Vanessa and her parents appeared in the hallway. Ms. and Mr. Mateo both had a hand on their daughter’s shoulders, and all usual color had vanished from Vanessa’s face. She was scared and it was a feeling Brooke had yet to see Vanessa experience.

However, it didn’t make Brooke feel any happier, unlike she expected. A heavy feeling sat on her chest, and she could barely breathe when the hate that had blinded her eyes faded and the regret washed over her.

What had she done?

 

\---

 

Brooke was waiting for her chaffeur to pick her up from school, when she saw the girls from the boarding school emerge from its main door. Of course, she thought, it was Friday.

For some reason, her eyes began to search for Yvie’s face. She wasn’t quite sure why, but she attributed it to Vanessa’s visit to the principal office. They were friends (or so it seemed), and it was very likely that Vanessa had already shot Yvie a message to let her know what had happened.

“So, you spilled on my friend, blondie,” a voice said behind her. Brooke jumped out of surprise and turned to face Yvie. 

She looked unbothered, but judging from the way she spit the words, she was clearly angry.

“First, I told her I was going to report her, but she preferred to act like a fool; second, where did you even come from?” Brooke asked confused. Yvie grinned, putting a cigarette between her lips.

“First, you’re a cunt; second, it's none of your business.”

“Well, how very polite.” Brooke cocked a brow, feeling her temper rise. “You should be grateful I didn’t say your name too, because I did mention she had some company.”

The grin disappeared from Yvie’s face.

“I’ll be grateful once you leave Vanessa and me the fuck alone, blondie.”

That nickname again. If Brooke heard it again, she would start cursing like a sailor.

“My name’s not “blondie”, it’s Brooke Lynn,” she stated. Yvie scoffed, walking away.

“Good for you, blondie.”

If it wasn’t for her family car arriving, Brooke would’ve called Yvie every name in the dictionary.

 

\---

 

Vanessa arrived to school on Monday in a giant scarf and a long sleeved shirt. 

She was strangely quiet and didn't skip any classes. For the first time in months the bathroom didn’t smell of nicotine, and Brooke wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

Brooke felt the guilt consuming her as she, out of the corner of her eye, saw Vanessa flinch when someone tried to show her the slightest physical contact. 

Reporting Vanessa definitely hadn’t been a good idea.

At the end of the day she saw Vanessa look around, almost as if searching for someone, before she hopped into a black car with a terrified expression. Brooke glanced over at Our Ladies Of God and she found Yvie staring at her, lingering in the entrance with her hands stuffed in the pockets of her grey jacket.

Brooke remembered what had happened on Friday and she felt the need to apologize for being rude to her. For a second, she was, indeed, close to approaching the taller girl — when from behind the door appeared a redhead that gave Yvie a big kiss on the cheek and immediately clung to her arm, chit-chatting about God knows what.

Brooke looked away in disgust and quickly scrapped the idea of apologizing. Yvie didn’t deserve any apology from her, she was a  _ sinner. _

She didn’t have time for people like that, she tried to convince herself, when Yvie passed in front of her and didn't acknowledge her existence, busy looking at the girl hanging from her arm with what looked like literal heart eyes.

Brooke scoffed and tried to ignore the pain in her chest. (She most definitely wasn’t hurting because of Yvie, thank you very much.)

 

\---

 

On a Thursday morning Brooke confirmed her theory that the news spread fast in a female dominated school. 

She didn’t share gym class with Vanessa, but Blair did, and she cleared up the rumours for her. Vanessa had bruises all over her arms, trailing until the beginning of her neck, and with the sweat her foundation had worn off, revealing a bruise just above her cheekbone. 

The scandal in the changing room had been quite a big one; so big that Sister Pandora had entered, demanding to know what was going on. The girls quickly hid Vanessa, so that she wouldn’t see her in that state.

It didn’t came to Brooke right away why they’d done that, but when Blair explained it, it made sense: had Sister Pandora seen Vanessa, she’d have been scandalized and called her parents, and that would’ve only made everything worse.

By lunch everyone was aware of the reason Vanessa wore clothes covering the upper half of her body. Many students shot her sympathetic glares, while murmuring things against the asshole that had reported her in the first place. 

Brooke felt sick. So sick she actually rushed to the bathroom in the middle of lunch, and when she kneeled in front of the toilet to vomit everything she had been able to eat, she saw a tiny phrase written with a sharpie on the left corner of the cubicle.

_ 'Freedom shouldn’t taste like guilt and pain.' _

 

\---

 

It was on Friday during the first recess when Brooke decided she couldn’t live with all the guilt. 

She walked towards Vanessa sitting all by herself under the apple tree in the middle of the patio — rumour had it she fought with Silky and A’keria, because they wanted the girl to report her parents for child abuse. Vanessa had refused fiercely.

Brooke stood awkwardly in front of her for a couple seconds before the Latina noticed her presence with a frown.

“The fuck you want now? I’m not doing shit this time!” she exclaimed, picking up her things ready to leave.

“No, no, no. I wanna talk to you, please, give me a minute,” Brooke pleaded. Vanessa looked at her skeptically, sitting back down.

She unlocked her phone and set a timer. “You have exactly one minute, bitch.”

Brooke sighed. “Listen, I’m— I’m so sorry for reporting you,” she began, “I didn’t know you— your parents— I didn’t know they would—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Vanessa interrupted her, “I don’t know why people freak out so much tho’, it’s not like they beat me unconscious or somethin’ like that. I’m fine, it’s just a lil’ bruise.”

“Vanessa, you have bruises all over your arms and on your cheek,” Brooke replied in horror. How could Vanessa say such a thing? “It’s not just ‘a lil’ bruise’, it’s abuse.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes.

“Girl, we’re Latinos, it’s normal; my grandparents beat my parents all the time and they turned out just fine.” Brooke was about to reply when Vanessa’s alarm went off. “Oops, there it goes, your minute.” Vanessa picked up her things, stood up and smiled ironically at her. “Have a good day, miss  _ puritana _ .”

Brooke was left with a sour taste in her mouth and a lump in her throat.

The shame washed all over her yet again, making her regret all the bad things she’d said about Vanessa, and how she’d hated her just for being unapologetically herself. Now she had reduced Vanessa to a shadow of the bubbly, rebellious girl she used to be.

Brooke despised herself with a burning passion.

 

\---

 

That same day Brooke had the impulse to talk to Yvie about Vanessa. She was her friend, there had to be something she could do to get Vanessa out her situation at home. So, when their classes ended, and she was waiting for the family car to pick her up, she looked around after Yvie.

Again, she found her leaning against the doorframe of the boarding school’s entrance, hands in her pockets, with a look of complete disinterest for her surrounding. Brooke inhaled sharply and began walking in her direction.

_ ‘Just ask her quickly and get out of there.’  _

“Um, Yvie?” Brooke called when she came closer. The girl in question cocked a brow.

“If you came to tell me yet again what a good person you are, it’s not the right moment, blondie,” Yvie spit out with disgust. Brooke breathed in and forced the words out of her mouth.

“I wanna talk to you about Vanessa,” she said, going straight to the point.

That seemed to spark an interest in Yvie, because her expression visibly changed.

“Do you know anything about her? She hasn’t replied to my texts since last week...”

_ ‘And the plot thickens,’ _ Brooke thought, feeling scared for real.

“She is all bruised up. Her parents clearly beat her, and when I tried to tell her it’s child abuse, she said some shit like, “but we’re latinos, so it’s normal.””

Brooke saw Yvie’s eyes grow wide in fear for her friend, but before she could answer, the door was opened again and the same girl Brooke saw hanging from Yvie’s arm on Monday came out from behind it.

“I’m ready! Let's go,” the redhead chirped, and Yvie glanced apologetically at Brooke.

“Gimme a minute, Scar,” Yvie requested, turning back to Brooke. “This Vanessa shit is fucked up, I think we should team up to get some sense into her.”

“Yeah, I think we should do that. But how?” she inquired. Yvie shrugged.

“I dunno. DM me on Instagram and we can brainstorm?” Yvie suggested, linking hands with the other girl. “I gotta go, please keep me updated on the Vanessa situation.”

And she left, with the redhead immediately telling her something about Mercedes and a failed chemistry project.

The same pain in her chest arose again and Brooke considered visiting a doctor.

 

\---

 

Finding Yvie’s instagram was harder than Brooke would’ve thought. She figured she’d be between Vanessa’s followers, but when she went to check Vanessa’s account —she was pretty sure Kameron had some selfies with Vanessa being Vanessa in the comments— there was nothing there. Vanessa’s account was deactivated and if Brooke had been worried for Vanessa’s safety before, now she was completely scared to the core.

She wasn’t quite sure how Yvie’s name was spelled, so she had tried many combinations before she finally found her. 

Yvie Bridges was her full name, and she definitely had no business attending Our Ladies Of God. From the pictures she had posted, Brooke could clearly see she was the embodiment of sin. Some were taken at the cemetery, others in which she was climbing up mesh fences, smoking, group photos at parties and whatnot.

Brooke sat on her bed, contemplating each photo carefully for longer than she probably should have, and then a brief thought crossed her mind - if Yvie was the sins turned into flesh, then sinning didn’t look half as bad anymore (Could you blame her, though? Yvie had this endearing style of posing for photos that made everything aesthetically pleasing.).

When Brooke got to the first photo Yvie had posted, she went to check her own feed. Suddenly, what she had deemed “appropriate” and “cute” felt dull and boring; photos in her school uniform, with family members, Bible quotes and two photos of her and her cats. It didn’t look like she lived an exciting life, or had one to begin with.

Without giving it a second thought, she deleted all of her photos —except the ones of Henry and Apollo, she couldn’t bring herself to do it, changed her icon to the only photo she had without her school uniform and looked like a somewhat normal teenager, changed her bio and sighed in content. That felt much better.

She proceeded to give Yvie a follow and put her phone aside to study for her upcoming maths test.

 

\---

 

On a Saturday morning Brooke woke up to a DM and a follow from Yvie.

_ yvieisodd: well that was fast. sup blondie? _

Brooke shouldn’t have smiled as dumbly as she did. She decided to ignore the nickname. (It wasn’t a bad one, Brooke realized, she was just being an asshole.)

_ brooke_hytes: hey, not much, just woke up. you? _

She left her phone on a bedside table while she changed her pyjamas for some comfy clothes; Brooke definitely wasn’t expecting her phone to vibrate so quickly.

_ yvieisodd: coming back from a party, i’m completely hammered, but i’ve been worse. _

Brooke cocked her brow, checking the time.

_ brooke_hytes: 1) it’s 9 AM, 2) don’t you go to a boarding school? _

_ yvieisodd: 1) so?  2) i have weekends free, just like you.  _

_ brooke_hytes: at 9AM normal people eat breakfast. _

_ yvieisodd: the thing is, blondie, normal clearly means something different for the two of us.  _

_ Seen by brooke_hytes. _

 

\---

 

On a Sunday afternoon Brooke got another DM on Instagram during her ballet rehearsal —their next show was so close, they were practising even on the weekends— and this time it was from Blair.

It was weird, she thought. She called Blair a friend when in reality they were just casual acquaintances thanks to Kameron, meaning they didn’t have much contact outside of school.

_ blair.st_clair: hey brooke! i’m having a party for my 17th b-day next weekend and i wanna know if you can come so i put you on the list beforehand. ✨ _

Brooke stared at her phone for what felt like ages. People never invited her to parties, mostly because she had always made it clear that she had no interest in participating in them, if they would result in her arriving hangovered and sleep deprived to the morning mass on Sunday.

Therefore, she had no idea what to do. Should she ask her parents for permission? Should she just wait until the day of the party and tell them to drive her over to Blair’s? 

Biting her lower lip, she replied.

_ brooke_hytes: hi blair! thanks for inviting me :) sure, i’ll be there, put me on the list. _

She locked her phone and began to walk back home. Her dance studio was only a few streets away from it. 

Brooke liked her walks from ballet. She rarely went out, despite being friends with Kameron, who never said no to hanging out at anytime, anywhere. It was just that her life consisted of studying, working out —as her mom said, “you’re not going to win any pageant looking like  _ that _ ”, her ballet and piano classes, and nothing else. 

She barely had time to breath, in all honesty. So she highly appreciated being alone, even just for the shortest time, and being able to stare at the sky, or hear the birds sing. It gave Brooke peace, something she had yet to achieve in her suffocating hell of a house.

“Blondie!” 

Brooke froze in her spot. That voice — she could easily recognize Yvie’s voice, despite having heard it only a few times. And besides, no one but Yvie called her 'blondie'.

She looked around after the taller girl and saw her a few meters behind. It was the first time she had ever seen her without her school uniform, she realized, and Brooke concluded, yet again, that Yvie had no place at a Catholic School. If anything, she belonged to an Arts School. Her grunge style fit everywhere but Our Ladies Of God.

“Do I have to worry you’re stalking me?” Brooke wondered when the other girl was near enough, half-jokingly, half-confused.

Yvie chuckled.

“Don’t consider yourself that lucky, blondie. I just happen to have my Art Classes around here.” She shrugged, and Brooke doubted the honesty behind it for a moment, but decided to play along.

“Have you heard anything from Vanessa?” Brooke inquired, as she resumed her walk, this time slower, with Yvie positioned at her side.

Yvie furrowed her brows and pursed her lips. She looked cute like that, Brooke thought. 

“Not really, no. I texted her friends from school and they said they tried to visit her, but her parents wouldn’t let them past the door,” she informed with a serious tone.

A shiver went down Brooke’s spine, imagining Vanessa curled up in a corner of her room, with her arms and face covered in bruises. A voice in her head repeated again and again that it was all her fault. And in all honesty, Brooke thought so too.

“I feel guilty about it,” Brooke muttered, digging her nails into her palms. 

“Well, it is kinda your fault,” Yvie admitted, and it felt like a punch in Brooke’s stomach. She flinched when she felt Yvie put a hand on her shoulder, but quickly got used to it. Her hands were so warm and soft. “But it’s not your fault they beat her, I mean, they were shitty already, and you had no chance to know.”

Yvie shrugged and Brooke felt somewhat better, even though that wasn’t the kind of comfort she was used to getting.

(Well, she wasn’t used to getting any type or comfort from anyone, ever, if she was to get technical, but it wasn’t as if that mattered. Brooke didn’t need comfort, anyway. And Yvie’s little speech definitely had not sparked anything inside her. What for? Her comfort didn’t mean a thing.)

Yvie withdrew her hand and Brooke suddenly felt cold. She forced a smile.

“Right. Thanks, I guess.” Brooke turned her head slightly, so that she was facing Yvie. Only then she noticed the giant backpack she had. “What’s in there?” she asked, pointing at it. 

Yvie smiled widely and stopped in her tracks, reaching for her backpack and opening it. Brooke came closer and took a look inside, her hands occasionally brushing with Yvie’s.

“I have all my art stuff here! I paint with oils, acrylics, spray, crayons… Anything, really,” she said beaming. Brooke’s heart jumped, it was the first time she saw Yvie so excited about something, and she looked like a kid showing their most beloved treasure to their friend.

Brooke liked this Yvie better than the arrogant jerk from the alley.

“That’s so cool, Yvie,” Brooke complimented, “I’d like to see one of your drawings sometime.” She offered her a shy smile, as Yvie closed her backpack and put it back on.

“And I’d like to see you dance sometime,” Yvie replied with a grin. 

“There’s a show in two weeks,” Brooke immediately said and was taken aback by her own intensity. “We’re doing 'Swan Lake', and I’m the prima ballerina. You could come,” she suggested, lowering the tone of her voice as she spoke.

Yvie seemed to think about it for a moment.

“Well, I’m not really into ballet, but I’m curious to see your dancing abilities. I’ll consider it.” Brooke’s chest shouldn’t have risen with contained happiness, but it did. And, for some reason, it felt good. 

“I’ll save a ticket for you, if you decide to come,” she offered, and Brooke didn’t know if Yvie’s cheeks were rosy due to the heat, or if she was really blushing out of shyness.

“Would you look at that? You’re finally falling for my charm, blondie! I thought I’d die without hearing you say the slightest nice thing to me.” Brooke laughed, covering her mouth with her right hand. Yvie poked her arm. “I made you  _ laugh _ ? Who are you, and what have you done to blondie?” Yvie mocked, laughing alongside Brooke.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. I was going to treat you with basic human decency at some point, don’t get too excited.” 

_ ‘Although ‘basic human decency’ doesn’t involve promising her tickets for a ballet show from the best academy in town.' _

 

\---

 

Monday rolled around, and throughout the day Brooke got tons of DMs from Yvie. 'Boarding schools', she said, were 'a royal pain in the ass already, now add creepy nuns to the formula'. 

It helped Brooke distract from the fact that Vanessa had arrived late that day to their geography class. She looked fine, but then again, she had looked fine on the day everyone discovered the secret behind the long sleeves. 

Brooke wanted to get closer with her, to know if she was really okay. But she wasn’t sure if Vanessa would want that. As far as Brooke knew, she had caused her all that pain.

Yvie’s voice interrupted her thoughts when she began to beat herself up with guilt.  _ “You had no chance to know.”  _ It somewhat made her feel confident enough to approach her when the bell indicating the beginning of a break rang on every corner of the building.

“Vanessa,” Brooke called, jogging to meet her. 

The girl reluctantly turned on her heels and faced Brooke, sighing already.

“Whatcha want now?” she questioned furrowing her brows.

Brooke bit her bottom lip.

“Vanessa, I’m really sorry for all the bad things I’ve said and done to you. It wasn’t cool and I hope you can give me another chance,” she apologized and Vanessa took a step back, baffled.

“You mean it?” 

“Yeah, I do.”

An awkward silence hung between them as they stared into each other’s eyes. Vanessa half-smiled.

“Well, I do feel lonely since I fought with A’keria and Silky…”

So the rumours were true, Brooke thought. But she didn’t ask about it, she just walked until she was right beside Vanessa and offered her a smile.

“Wanna go hang out with Kameron and Blair? I have to ask Blair something about her party, anyway.” Vanessa nodded, following Brooke.

At times, Vanessa reminded her old self, making inappropriate comments and laughing so loudly she would wake up the sun. But after doing that, she’d straighten up her posture, bite the inside of her cheek and wouldn't give more than a small chuckle as a response to something funny Brooke said. 

When Brooke approached Blair and Kameron with Vanessa at her side, they shot her confused glares. Anyone that had ever had a conversation with Brooke knew she couldn’t stand the other girl. Seeing them chatting and joking all of the sudden was quite an event.

“Hey, guys,” Brooke greeted, “Blair, I wanted to ask you something about the party.”

“Oh, sure! Tell me,” she replied, making space on the bench for Brooke and Vanessa. “And by the way, Vanessa, I tried to contact you through Instagram to tell you about the party, but your user wasn’t showing…?”

Brooke saw Vanessa’s muscles tense out of the corner of her eye. She forced a smile.

“Yeah, that account was old as time. I deleted it planning to do a new one, but I deadass forgot.” She shrugged, playing with her fingers. 

Blair laughed softly and smiled warmly at her.

“That’s fine, it happens. Just so you know, I’m having a party at my house for my 17th birthday, you’re totally invited, but you have to bring your own alcohol. I’ll give you the address later.”

Brooke almost snapped her neck because of the speed she turned to see Blair with.

“What do you mean “bring your own alcohol”?” she questioned, sounding almost terrified. Blair shrugged.

“What else can I mean? Stop by at some liquor store, pull out your fake ID, buy whatever you like, and then come to my house to get wasted together.”

Brooke almost squealed in fear.

“You have fake IDs? How?”

Kameron and Blair shared a look and laughed out loud. Kameron reached for her shoulder and patted it.

“Brooke, dear, I think we need to update you on some things.”

 

\---

 

_ brooke_hytes: vanessa is “okay.” i think. i hung out with her today and she looks fine. well, better than last week, anyway. _

Brooke hit send as she snuggled into the back of her family car. She hadn’t replied to Yvie’s texts until that moment, and she laughed internally as she read some of them. Yvie was really creative when it came to cursing.

A message from Blair came through, just when she was about to reply to that story of Yvie freeing the frogs from the science class into the patio.

_ blair.st_clair: hey girl, i totally forgot you had something to ask me during the break today. what was it? _

Just then, Brooke remembered she had yet to ask for permission. Luckily, her mom finished work at the same time she finished her classes on Mondays, and was currently sitting in the front passenger seat. She leant in a bit and asked in a hurried voice.

“Mom, my friend’s having birthday and she’s celebrating this weekend in her house. Can I go?”

Marie Hytes briefly glanced up from her phone to see her daughter in the rearview mirror.

“Sure, honey, who is this friend again?” she wondered, going back to her phone.

“Blair St. Clair, mom. Her parents own the St. Clair theater,” she replied throwing herself back into the backseat.

“Ah, the St. Clairs, yes, I know them. Kathy St. Clair and I have known each other for years…” and so her mother began telling her about the old times, when she used to help Kathy with her hair for the pageants.

Brooke hummed in an occasional response, and typed out an answer to Blair.

_ brooke_hytes: hi! i was wondering if i could bring a plus one?  _

_ blair.st_clair: sure! the more, the merrier lol. what’s their name? _

_ brooke_hytes: yvie bridges. _

 

_ \--- _

 

On Tuesday, Brooke got so incredibly bored during history, that she pulled out her phone and told Yvie about the party. She was down to it, of course she was. But she pointed out the fact that Vanessa’s parents had her like a princess in the tower — they’d never let her go.

When the bell for recess rang, Brooke was the first one to pick up her things and leave the class. She was intending to go find Vanessa and talk to her about the party, but another message from Yvie stopped her.

_ yvieisodd: vanessa’s with me. she didn’t come for a cigarette. i’ll keep you updated. _

Brooke was baffled for a moment, but she quickly put her phone back into her pocket and made her way to the lockers, wondering why would Vanessa step her foot into the alley if it wasn’t for a smoke.

“Hi, Brooke!” Kameron greeted, jumping from God-knows-where and giving Brooke a good spook.

“Morning, Kam,” she muttered, “How are—”

“I have something to ask you,” she interrupted her, linking arms with her. “Would you say you’re friends with Vanessa?” The question caught Brooke off guard. She stopped in her tracks and looked at Kameron through narrowed eyes.

“And why are you asking?” she asked, feeling suspicious.

Kameron leaned in and put her hands around Brooke’s ear, so that nobody but her would hear what she was about to say.

“I have a friend who’s into girls, and she wants to know if Vanessa is too, so she can make a move on her on Blair’s party.” Brooke took a step back and, instead of spitting out all what she was told to repeat about homosexuals, she forced a smile.

“I don’t know, but I know someone who does.” Kameron beamed.

“Great! Lemme know once you find out, or I swear to God my friend will die from anxiety. I’m off to tell her! See ya!” she waved at her, disappearing in the hallways in a matter of seconds.

Brooke threw her books into her locker with a groan, and forcefully pulled out her phone to send Yvie a text.

_ brooke_hytes: a friend wants to know if vanessa is into girls. _

Almost immediately she got an answer via photo. It was Vanessa doing a silly face, and Yvie had captioned it with “she’s offended you even had to ask.” 

Inevitably, she laughed, even though she wasn't supposed to. (“Homosexuals,” her father always said, “Are sick in the head and need to be brought back to God’s path.”)

_ brooke_hytes: haha okay, i’ll tell her. _

_ yvieisodd: and what about you? _

_ brooke_hytes: what about me? _

_ yvieisodd: are you into girls too? _

Brooke left Yvie on seen for the rest of the day.

 

\---

 

Yvie’s question ran through Brooke’s head. 

She wasn’t into girls, at all. She could never be a lesbian — it went against her beliefs, against all her parents had taught her. 

Although, if she sat down to think about it, there was a small, very tiny possibility that she liked girls instead of boys. It would explain her fixation on every move ballerinas made when she was younger, and the warm feeling in her stomach when a girl smiled at her. 

There were voices in her head screaming with the same intensity — on the one side, she had this sweet, soothing voice, that told her everything would be okay, and that there was nothing wrong about being into girls. The other one, however, was reciting word by word the descriptions of hell from the Bible, yelling she’d rot in each and every one of them.

Brooke didn’t know what to do, so she prayed - she prayed to every Saint she knew of, to free her from such feelings. She knew she would never be able to live her truth as long as she had the Hytes surname - her parents would rather have a dead child than a gay one. 

Heaven knew there wasn’t any chance for Brooke to get her parents acceptance if she came out — it was already hard to get her parents approval on the most trivial things. The odds of the blonde getting disowned and thrown out of her own house were high. She preferred to have the homosexuality vanished from her, and live in peace.

Speaking of homosexuality, her phone vibrated for the first time since she got Yvie's message. But it wasn’t a text from her, it was from Vanessa. Or, well, an account that claimed to be Vanessa.

_ vanessaxoxo: bitch, so i talked w/ yvie and my parents won’t let me go to the party, y’all better help a sister escape _

A small smile appeared on Brooke’s face. There was the Vanessa she knew. 

_ brooke_hytes: i don’t know, vanessa. i’ve never helped someone with that before - nor have escaped for that matter. _

_ vanessaxoxo: dont u worry girl, me n yvie have everything planned out. u follow the flow. _

_ brooke_hytes: i don’t have a good feeling about this… _

 

_ \--- _

 

The rest of the week went by in a blink of an eye.

Vanessa was suddenly closer with Brooke, always trying to catch her at the breaks or sitting by her side in every class they had together. The taller girl didn’t mind, though - the Latina turned out to be really charming, and made her laugh with every other word. Brooke almost forgot the rivalry she had set between the two of them for no reason.

Yvie texted Brooke almost every day, but Brooke barely answered. After  _ that _ question, which made Brooke question herself like crazy, she resolved to keep her distance with her. The blonde didn’t want to query her beliefs anymore. 

Saturday rolled in and Brooke went through her closet to find something to wear. It seemed as if every garment she owned was appropriate either for church or for pageants. Nothing in between. She had to get inside and dig into the piles of clothing, before she found a nice white dress that ended just an inch above her knee. She was sure she had a velvet black jacket somewhere, and a pair of shoes —she wasn't allowed to wear her good heels unless it was for pageants— that would match it perfectly.

Vanessa hadn’t given her any major explanations on how they would help her escape from her house, so Brooke didn’t expect it to be particularly difficult, perhaps they would just have to help her climb down a window, or something like that.

Around 9 PM Brooke got all dressed up, grabbed a small backpack in which she put her keys, phone, jacket and a pack of mints —mints, according to Yvie, were essential when you went to a party and had to disguise the smell of alcohol. 

The blonde was coming down the stairs when she heard someone cough behind her. She froze in her tracks, scared to turn around.

“Where are you going, Brooke Lynn?”

The blonde had forgotten to add her dad to the equation.

Without turning around, she replied.

“To a friend’s house, father, it’s her birthday and…” Her father cut her off.

“You’re not going, you didn’t ask for permission.” Brooke tried not to show how nervous she was and turned around, looking at the ground.

“B… but mom gave me permission,” she mumbled, playing with her hands.

“You didn’t ask for  _ my  _ permission,” he stated, “And besides, you’re not going anywhere in that dress. You look like a whore.”

Brooke gulped, unable to find her voice to fight back her father. It had always been like this - when Brooke showed the slightest bit of free spirit, he’d crash it with his harsh words and intimidating presence. 

He was about to send her back to her room and probably order her to stay there until the next day, when her mother called her name from downstairs.

“Brooke! Honey, the car is waiting you! I already asked Kathy if you could stay over if the party ended late! Where are you?” the mentioned turned to see the end of the stairs where her mother was standing with a smile of relief. “There you are! Oh, and you found the dress your Godmother gifted you for Christmas! I was wondering where you left it — anyway, come, honey, or you’ll be late.”

The blonde didn’t need to be told twice, she practically trotted downstairs, holding onto the rail for dear life.

“You sure aren’t going to let her go dressed like _ that, _ aren’t you, Marie?” her father protested, coming down the stairs.

His wife rolled her eyes and put a hand on her daughter’s back, pushing her towards the door.

“Oh, Jackson, leave the girl alone. She has shown more than her knees on the swimsuit segments of the pageants. She’s going, and that’s final,” Marie gave her husband a look that clearly meant she wouldn’t allow him to contradict her. 

“Fine,” Jackson muttered through gritted teeth, leaving to a different room.

Marie smiled to her daughter, brushing Brooke's hair with her shaky hands.

“Now, you go to that party and tell Kathy she’s welcome to visit us anytime.”

And just like that, her mother opened the door, pushed her out of the house and closed it behind her. 

Brooke had no idea what had just happened, but she climbed into the car and gave the driver Yvie’s address before her father changed his mind.

 

\---

 

When Brooke picked Yvie up, she expected her to come out from the door, like any normal human being, but instead, she saw her climbing down from a tree, shaking off the dirt and running with her backpack to meet her. 

“Why do I have the feeling you’re sneaking out too?” Brooke said, holding the door open for her. The brunette chuckled.

“It’s better if you don’t know,” she replied with simplicity. 

Brooke resolved to let it go and hurried Yvie to tell the driver Vanessa’s address. Surprisingly, she lived just a couple of streets away. 

Vanessa’s house was guarded by a big fence that in the darkness of the night seemed to not have an end. Brooke told Yvie to give up, because there was no way she was climbing all the way up and landing on the ground without a scratch.

Yvie laughed loudly, as she pulled out her phone and turned on its flashlight.

“You just follow me.” She began walking towards one of the bushes and kicked it several times, before revealing a hole big enough for them to crawl in. “Ladies first.” Yvie smiled smugly, but Brooke looked at her in horror.

“No way! My dress—”

“You’ll be fine, trust me, blondie,” Yvie interrupted her, waving her hand in a dismissive way.

Hesitant, Brooke got on her knees and began crawling into the hole, followed by Yvie. The fact Yvie was so close to her did not make Brooke’s whole body tremble, absolutely not.

Once they were on the other side of the fence, the brunette turned off the light and firmly took Brooke’s hand, guiding her through the maze that was the Mateo’s garden. She seemed to know it like the back of her hand, due to the fact that she didn’t crash with the trees and ornaments not even once, unlike Brooke. 

Brooke wasn’t sure for how long they had walked, until they arrived to, as she supposed, Vanessa’s window. Yvie took a few rocks from the ground and threw them at it. Within a minute, Vanessa’s head peaked through it.

“Bitch, what took you so long?” Vanessa inquired, “I have a backpack full of alcohol, who’s catchin’ it?”

“Let it fall, I got this,” Brooke replied, calculating where it would land. Vanessa shrugged and threw it out, and the blonde caught it in the air, stumbling a little. Luckily, Yvie was there to save her from collapsing. 

“Yes, bitch, work!” Vanessa clapped, climbing out of the window as careful as she could. Then, she noticed something. “Where the fuck is Scarlet?”

Brooke frowned, looking at Vanessa, then at Yvie.

“Scarlet?”

 

\---

 

Four people arrived to the party instead of three.

Scarlet turned out to be the redhead that Brooke had seen hanging from Yvie’s arm before. ‘ _ It’s fine _ ,’ she thought, ‘ _ Whatever they are, it isn’t my business.’ _

It didn’t stop the suffocating feeling in her chest when she saw Scarlet snuggle into Yvie in some corner, or how Yvie ignored everyone just to focus on what Scarlet had to say. Brooke was  _ fine _ . Perfectly fine.

She engaged in many conversations, mostly thanks to Vanessa, and sipped from her beer can every so often, just so that Kameron would get off her back for not drinking anything.

Truth be told, Brooke would’ve never expected Blair to throw such a party —  _ and _ with her parents’ consent. Every room was crowded, the alcohol flowing, and music blasting so loudly, Brooke could feel the walls trembling from time to time. It was the first time she had been on a party like those in the movies, and she had yet to understand what was so fun about them.

“Hey, have you seen Vanessa?” Brooke asked, tugging on Kameron’s arm. 

“Dunno, I think Ariel finally got her claws on her.” Kameron shrugged, staring at someone, and Brooke eyes widened.

“Ariel Versace? That Ariel?” 

“Yup, that Ariel,” Kameron replied, taking a long sip from her drink. She finally turned to face Brooke. “Hey, is that girl who arrived with you and Vanessa, you know…?” 

The blonde took a step back, baffled at Kameron’s question. She would’ve never imagined her friend would be into girls too. But the shock vanished as unjustified jealousy took over at the thought of Kameron wanting to flirt with Yvie.

“Which one? Yvie or Scarlet?”

“Which one is the redhead again?” Brooke sighed in relief.

“That’s Scarlet, and she’s definitely a lesbian.”  _ And definitely into Yvie _ , the blonde wanted to add, but she didn’t find it necessary.

Kameron soon asked her, between shy blushes and long sips, to be her wingwoman, and help her out with Scarlet. Brooke complied, mostly encouraged by the idea of the girl finally leaving Yvie’s side. 

She grabbed Kameron's hand and went through the crowd to find Yvie and Scarlet. It didn’t take them long before they saw them, chatting with people she didn’t know, Yvie’s hand protectively on the other girl's hip.

It shouldn’t have bothered Brooke, but it did, greatly so. Luckily, Kameron wasn’t one to give up on something she wanted, so she dragged Brooke with her, as she decided to make a move on Scarlet.

Brooke wasn’t the best at flirting, or anything that involved romanticism, but she was deadly sure Scarlet preferred flirting with Kameron than with Yvie, since she swiftly pulled away from her embrace as soon as Kameron approached them.

The blonde supressed a laugh, as she looked at Yvie with a cocked brow. The brunette sighed and came closer to Brooke. “Wanna go somewhere else? I think she definitely doesn’t need me anymore.” Yvie shrugged, and Brooke’s heart sunk a little. 

She nodded, and her breath got caught in her throat when Yvie placed her arm around her waist this time. 

Scarlet was a fool for letting Yvie go, but honestly, Brooke couldn't be more thankful for it.

 

\---

 

It was 3AM and Brooke wasn’t sure how in hell she was still on her feet. Turned out, partying with Yvie was wild in every sense of that word. Shot after shot, bottle after bottle - the taller girl didn’t slow down, and yet she was nothing more than dizzy.

Brooke, on the other hand, had barely had a few shots of what Yvie had called “tequila, or was this vodka? Either, way, drink it up, blondie.” And she, curious to find out if it tasted any good, drank it without a complain. Until she began to slur and stumble, and Yvie forbid her to drink more.

It was all okay, though. Vanessa had joined them around 1AM, with smudged lipstick and a smug smile. Neither one of them questioned where she had been, but judging by how she was looking at Ariel Versace, they had an idea. 

They were chatting when whoever was in charge of the music played reggaeton, and Vanessa  _ lost it _ , immediately grabbing Brooke and Yvie, so that they danced with her. 

Sober Brooke wouldn’t admit her heart almost jumped out of her chest because of her how close she was to Yvie — but More-Than-Tipsy Brooke didn’t hesitate to pull the brunette by the collar of her shirt and hide her face in the crock of her neck.

“This is getting boring, don’t y’all think?” Yvie suddenly said, as they were coming back from the bathroom.

Vanessa and Brooke looked at Yvie, puzzled.

“What do you mean?” Vanessa asked, pushing people out of her way.

“I normally like these type of parties, but I feel like something’s missing…” Vanessa rolled her eyes at Yvie.

“Bitch, that’s ‘cause you let that hoe Kameron steal your girl! You is always with Scarlet at all parties.”

Drunk Brooke definitely didn’t take “your girl” well. She looked at Yvie with a cocked brow.

“What on earth is going on with you and Scarlet, anyway?” she inquired, sounding more harsh than she meant to.

Yvie sighed, massaging her temples.

“She’s not 'my girl', I can tell you that,” Yvie clarified, staring into Brooke’s eyes. 

The blonde shouldn’t have smiled as widely as she did.

“You think she’ll be fine if we leave her with Kameron for a bit longer?” she inquired, adjusting her backpack.

A sarcastic laugh came out of Yvie’s mouth.

“What makes you think she’s still here? She left like an hour ago with your friend.”

_ ‘The plot gets better and better, _ ’ Brooke thought, as the three of them made their way out of the party, arms linked and no final destination.

 

\---

 

“Do you wanna see one of my drawings?” Yvie inquired. 

It was 4AM —probably, Brooke hadn’t checked the time after leaving the party— and they had just helped a very drunk Vanessa climb up her window. They had nowhere to go, and the blonde was supposed to sleep at Blair’s —who, by the way, she hadn’t seen after she greeted them at the door at the very beginning of the night— and she just knew there was no way the party would be over by that time.

So she nodded, not really aware of the question. Yvie firmly grabbed her hand, guiding her through the streets and the blur of lights before her eyes. 

Being drunk was weird, Brooke realized. She was very aware of her environment and everything surrounding her, but she couldn’t quite control her body and mind like she normally would. She was sure she had given an encouraging speech to another girl in the bathroom line, and had complimented Yvie a ton of times through the night. 

How had Yvie not noticed Brooke was melting under her touch, she didn’t know.

They arrived to the park, and Brooke had to admit it had been a long walk for just showing her some sketches in a notebook.

“Close your eyes for a second,” the taller girl requested, and the blonde cocked a brow.

“What for?”

“Just— just do it, please.”

Reluctantly, she did as she was told, and allowed Yvie to guide her. She felt as if they were running in circles for the longest time before they stopped, and the brunette placed her hands on Brooke’s shoulders.

“Open your eyes.”

The first thing Brooke noticed was a big wall, and she wondered what was it doing in the middle of the park. Then, she looked better at it and saw drawings, lots of them; there were different styles, colors and names.

“So,” she began, turning to see Yvie. “Is this what you do at that Art Class or…?” with a smile, the taller girl nodded.

“Yeah, we been doing this mural for quite some time now, but I didn't know what to do with my part.” She pointed at the bottom left corner of the wall, and Brooke wasted no time approaching it to see what was there.

She kneeled down, placing her hand on it to keep herself from falling. She examined it cautiously, and was completely blown away when she realised it was a drawing of a girl that, oddly enough, looked exactly like her, surrounded by feathers and flowers. 

Her cheeks turned red in no time, and she didn’t have the courage to face Yvie.

“This… Is this me? I mean, it looks— I’m pretty sure that’s me.”

“Yes, it’s you,” Yvie clarified, and the blonde almost snapped her neck when she turned to look at her. “I began sketching it when you told me you were gonna do the 'Swan Lake', and, I don’t know... I just thought you’d look pretty on the wall.”

Brooke’s heart began hammering against her chest so hard she was sure Yvie could hear it. 

There was a lot of confusion in her mind, beginning on why would Yvie dedicate her time into drawing her, and moreover, using her part of the mural for that? Why would she if she wasn’t—

The ballerina finally gathered the courage and looked into Yvie’s eyes. There was vulnerability in them she had never seen before.

“What is this supposed to mean?” she inquired, standing up. 

Yvie took a step closer, and then another, until Brooke’s back was against the wall and their faces so dangerously close.

“Would you believe me if I said I’m not sure?” the brunette wondered, placing her hands on Brooke’s hips. “Scarlet definitely flew out of my mind the moment I saw you, but what I feel isn’t love yet. I think I just really, really, really like you.”

A silly smile appeared on the blonde’s face at the same time as the color red completely took over her pale cheeks. This whole situation was exactly what Sober Brooke had tried to avoid, why she had prayed double during morning masses, but now that it was actually happening, and all common sense was out on vacation, she couldn’t help but to pull Yvie into a kiss.

They had known each other for, what? Two weeks? Maybe less? But Brooke could no longer deny she had a blooming crush on Yvie, and she was curious to see where it would led her.

When the kiss ended, they spent a while walking around, before they resolved to come back to Yvie’s house and spend the night there — Brooke would later text Blair, so she’d cover up for her with a little white lie or two.

The blonde was in her feelings, how could she not? She just had her first kiss, and concluded that she certainly didn’t like boys at all. She couldn’t help but to stop Yvie in her tracks and pull her into a hug in the middle of the street.

“Feeling cuddly, blondie?” she questioned, and as a response the shorter girl whined a little.

“Mmmh, I feel like— I think I should’ve said something back in the park, y’know?” she mumbled, and Yvie sighed with a playful smile.

“You had your mouth busy, I understand.” They laughed for a moment, but Brooke wasn’t done.

“I mean, ye— No! But, for real. I want you to— to know that I  _ like  _ like you,” she stated, and Yvie blushed a little.

“Aw, blondie, that’s so sweet,” the brunette cooed and placed a kiss on the girl’s forehead.

“I mean it!” Brooke exclaimed, “You’re so, sooo very pretty, how come I was so lucky to get a girl like you being an absolute cunt?” Yvie gave a small chuckle.

“Well, I was a cunt too—”

“Shut up! I’m not done!” she demanded with a pout. Yvie sighed, letting her go on with her rant. “Trust me when I say, I’d never thought I could be into girls if it wasn’t— if you weren’t so stupidly beautiful. I kind of just hid in the closet so much I almost stepped into Narnia.” The taller girl laughed loudly at Brooke being overdramatic. “And— and I guess I needed someone like you, so blunt and so real, to slap me in the face for my homosexuality to wake up.”

“Blondie, I think that’s—” 

“I’m still not done!” she whined, “All of this, it feels so lib— libre— so good! Why did I allow my parents to do what they wanted with my life? Anyway, I’m so over it!”

Yvie pulled her into a hug and placed a kiss on her cheek.

“That’s great, blondie. Now, can we go home already?” 

Brooke sighed and snuggled into Yvie as they walked down the empty streets, this time with a final direction in mind.

Brooke finally understood the quote written in the bathroom - she felt free, and for the first time, it didn't hurt.

**Author's Note:**

> ... And that's it! (Well, technically there's a second part left, but in what concerns this one, it's done.)  
> I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing this piece, hit me up at my tumblr @chachkisalpaca if you want ❤
> 
> See you on my next fic!


End file.
